Charmed
by Karbon Okapi
Summary: SS/HG. Hermione Granger, Hogwart's youngest teacher, knows a few of Severus Snape's secrets... one of which Voldemort would do anything to find out... PLEASE R & R!
1. Head of the Class

--Part I-- **Disclaimers: The usual pertain. If I owned Severus Snape, do you think I'd spend my time writing crap like this? I think not.** Hermione Granger's seventh year at Hogwart's began much like all the others before it. She sat with her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, at the Gryffindor table and cheered each time the Sorting Hat placed a first- year in their house, then feasted on the wonderful traditional meal that started off the year. This time was slightly different, of course, since Hermione was now Head Girl. Harry had been chosen Head Boy, they learned towards the end of their sixth year, but he turned down the honor, expecting that he wouldn't have time to both study for NEWTs and help manage Gryffindor. After all, with all his adventures at the end of the previous year, Harry had a bit of catching up to do. Headmaster Dumbledore selected a new Head Boy. Neville Longbottom? Despite his borderline-squib performance in Potions and his sub-par performance in... well, just about everything else, with the exception of Herbology, Neville had actually proven to be a star pupil in his sixth-year Muggle Studies elective. Since the truth about his parents' residence in St. Mungo's came to light, he also gained a modicum of respect from his peers. All in all, Harry and his friends thought, he was a pretty good choice for Head Boy. At least it didn't go to that insufferable Slytherin, Draco Malfoy.  
  
There was actually one other thing different about this, Hermione's last year as a Hogwart's student, but Harry and Ron didn't know about it yet. As Voldemort and his Death Eaters once again grew in power, the Order of the Phoenix was busier than ever. Because this meant more work for Professor Snape, he and Dumbledore were looking for someone else to take over teaching Potions to the first-years for the time being. After considering Madame Pomfrey and a few other Hogwart's staff members, they finally decided on asking their new Head Girl to try her hand at teaching. She did achieve a perfect score on her OWL and her NEWT (a year early) in Potions, after all, and she was also planning on a career as a teacher. Never mind that she wanted to teach at Durmstrang, the alma mater of her on-again, off- again boyfriend, Viktor Krum..  
  
After dessert, Hermione and Neville led the first-years to Gryffindor Tower. The new password, a bit of harmless advertising for the Weasley twins' very successful joke shop, was Ton-Tongue Toffee. As the new Gryffindors settled into their lodgings, Harry and Ron joined Hermione for a chat in her suite. All the seventh-years had large rooms-Harry and Ron, now free of other roommates, shared a spacious bedroom and bath-but Hermione, as Head Girl, had a bedroom, bathroom, and study all to herself. It was much better than Gryffindor Common Room for holding private conversations and sneaking trips through the Floo Network. Finally, after lots of catching up, Hermione told the two boys that she would be helping out Dumbledore by teaching Potions instead of taking it with them, and that Snape would tutor her privately as she worked toward her Salamander level. She was worried that Harry and Ron might resent her, but mainly they were just disgusted at the idea of her spending so much time alone with Severus Snape! She felt the same way, she had to admit, but if it would help destroy Voldemort once and for all, she could grin (well, maybe not grin) and bear it.  
  
Hermione's first meeting with Snape was the following evening. She fretted the entire way down to the dungeon, where his office and rooms were, utterly worried that without an entire class to take up his attentions, she would simply break down under his criticism. Steeling herself and trying to blank herself of emotion, Hermione knocked on the door and, upon hearing her instructor ('My colleague?!' she thought, but let it pass) grant her entrance, walked in with as much composure as she could muster.  
  
"Good evening, Professor Snape, sir." She spoke with the deference she knew him to prefer, her gaze directed towards her own shoes.  
  
He replied with his customary icy formality. "A rather poor evening, actually, but 'good evening' is the normal greeting, isn't it. Have a seat, Miss Granger." She quietly lowered herself into the black leather chair he indicated and for a moment looked him in the eye, noticing his unflinching stare. Never was she more grateful for the Hogwart's desks being so unusually deep-across it, he was very far from her indeed. Without any further ado, Snape asked how her first day teaching went-rather well, she said, though of course since it was the first day of class, wands remained in knapsacks. He sneered slightly, seemingly frustrated with her optimism. "And what have you assigned for homework, Miss Granger? You won't gain their respect if you don't make them work harder than the rest of this pathetic staff does! Who do you expect will be your most trustworthy pupil? Your discipline problems? Any near-squibs? No more of those dreadful Weasleys left coming up through the system, are there?" Hermione struggled to provide satisfactory answers to his barrage of questions. She was happy to have merely survived when he was finished. Or when she thought he was finished.  
  
After a pause, during which he stared directly at a potion burn on the top of his desk, he let loose one final question, almost under his breath. "How are you going to teach them, Miss Granger, when you are still a trembling schoolgirl in front of me?" Hearing these stinging words, Hermione felt as though she'd been slapped across the face. Tears involuntarily sprung to her eyes, though she had them quickly under control. It didn't take any knowledge of Arithmancy to understand that tears plus Snape equaled disaster. She rose indignantly and turned on her heel, fearing she would start sobbing if she had to look him in the eye one more time.  
  
"Miss... Hermione... wait." It wasn't even Snape's use of her given name that took Hermione aback as much as his tone: sincere, frantic, almost. repentant. She froze with her hand reaching for the doorknob, her back still to him. Relieved that she hadn't ignored his plea, Snape sighed. "You misunderstood. I didn't mean it that way. I... please, please sit down. I have to tell you something. Please."  
  
Hermione could scarcely believe her ears. Severus Snape, the feared Potions master, begging her to stay and hear him out? She couldn't wait to tell Harry and Ron about this one! More shocked and curious than anything else, Hermione resumed her former seated position, discreetly dabbing at her running nose with a handkerchief. Tentatively shifting her glance toward Snape's face, she cocked her head as he rubbed his temples with his long, slim fingers and exhaled slowly. Slowly, hesitantly, he began to speak, hands still covering his face. "This is all... I am a lie. If anyone could possibly understand, it would have to be you." She, perplexed, opened her mouth as if to speak, but his pause was only momentary. "The frightening professor you know is not me by nature. Just hold on for a minute, and perhaps things will become clearer." 


	2. The Potions Master Revealed

--Part II--  
  
As Snape muttered a quick incantation and pointed his wand at himself, his features began to soften. The deep creases disappeared from his face as the skin tightened, revealing the youthful face of a man in the prime of his life. His nose, formerly a large and crooked beak, shrunk and straightened. His limp, greasy black hair transformed to reveal rich auburn highlights and gleamed where the few rays of sunlight coming through the dungeon's high windows shone upon it. Every feature that once seemed so harsh and unforgiving was now chiseled to a gentle-seeming perfection. Hermione gasped. "So now you know," Snape said softly. "You and Albus Dumbledore. It was his idea. I wish things weren't this way, so I didn't have to be the way I am. I'm... I'm so sorry."  
  
A long moment passed before Hermione regained her composure and started peppering Snape with questions. "An appearance-detracting charm, I take it?"  
  
"Yes. The next youngest professor has over sixty years on me. Dumbledore didn't think it would be... helpful... for either my students or Voldemort to know that."  
  
"Voldemort. So you *are* a Death Eater."  
  
"My allegiance is to Dumbledore, not to him. You see, when I went to Hogwart's... well, I was much like you. Dumbledore knew my parents well-- they were strong wizards, from Spain-- and, desperate times calling for desperate measures, he decided to turn me into a weapon of sorts. He instructed the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin, quite contrary to my disposition, so he could have eyes in the enemy camp, as it were. When I graduated, as we had planned, I was initiated into the Death Eaters. I went to university, of course, and by the time I finished my degree and spent a few years abroad, things were growing as bad as Dumbledore had feared. The Potters had just been killed-- they were our last hope-- and Dumbledore wanted me close by, so I started teaching at Hogwart's. And here I am still."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly, amazed. But she wasn't done putting the pieces together. "But I still don't understand why you're so... awful. So cruel." She was almost shaking with emotion.  
  
Calmly, apologetically, Snape answered. "For one thing," he laughed, "do you think my Hufflepuff self would make a very convincing member of Voldemort's circle?" Hermione chuckled and shook her head. Snape, a Hufflepuff? "And also," he continued with a shy half-smile, "the appearance- detracting charm has some weaknesses. The nicer someone perceives the charmed person to be, the less he is fooled by the spell. I can't risk being found out. But believe me, I wish I didn't have to be that way." The look of amusement faded from his face, replaced by an introspective frown. "But it will be worth it if we can get rid of Voldemort once and for all."  
  
Sitting far back in the deep armchair, Hermione felt completely numb. Snape looked into her eyes for some sort of response. He was expecting the worst. How could he expect her to forgive him for six years of deceit, not to mention all the insults that passed between them? Suddenly, just as Hermione was about to answer, Snape felt compelled to say one more thing. "I know that. that you don't like me, and that you don't trust me. And that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley hate me even more. I can understand you wanting to tell them about this-- about me-- but the reason I'm telling you is that I trust you not to. I will tell them when they graduate, when all this mess with Voldemort will be over if luck is with us, and I will do my very best to make it up to them. But if they found out now, they might not be able to control themselves, and it could ruin everything. Do you understand?"  
  
Of course, Hermione understood perfectly, and she nodded in agreement. Finally, she spoke. "You're right. Harry couldn't handle it right now, not on top of anything else. You can trust me, Professor."  
  
"Please, call me Severus. I don't want to be Professor Snape any more than you want me to. And may I call you Hermione? I'm afraid I jumped the gun earlier, and I do apologize."  
  
Upon hearing him speak those words, Hermione smiled warmly. "Yes, I'd be honored, Severus. You certainly may."  
  
"Thank you, Hermione. It means a lot to me." She wasn't about to get over her loathing for Snape-the-Professor any time soon, but she felt compassion and sympathy for Severus-the-Hufflepuff. Almost unconsciously, she leaned forward in her chair and put her small hand on his.  
  
He flinched at the feel of her warm, dry palm and she drew back instantly, frightened that the "new" Snape was perhaps not as mild-mannered as he seemed. His eyes, moistened with tears, told a different story. Closing them, he nearly whispered, "I'm sorry. You took me by surprise. It's been a very long time since anyone but Voldemort... touched me of their own accord, Hermione." He reached out his hand to her, eyes still closed as if to focus all his energy on his sense of touch, and she gently enveloped his hand in both of hers. Moving his other hand to rest atop the pile, he slowly opened his eyes. "Ahh, yes, now I remember what I've been missing," he murmured.  
  
After being on poor terms with Viktor for the whole summer, Hermione was thinking much the same. 


	3. Day Two

--Part III--  
  
**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts. In this chapter I try to clear up the most common worry, why Severus is a Hufflepuff. But maybe there will be more to that story later. who knows! I may try to come out with another chapter this week even though I'm going to be away from home, but if not, I'll have it up by the end of the month.**  
  
As she headed back to her quarters in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione felt dazed. This was far too much, too soon. Couldn't Snape-- Severus, she quickly reminded herself-- have let her in on all his secrets a little more slowly? Of course, she realized that it was as much her fault as his. If she hadn't broken down in front of him and nearly stormed out... and after his first revelation, she had continued with her usual "impertinent questions...." And furthermore, she had a funny feeling that her lightheadedness was due to more than just information overload. Her mind kept playing one moment over and over: the first instant of contact between her hand and his; the perceptible shiver that went through his body, as if electrified, on her touch. It took Hermione ages to get to sleep that night.  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Hermione ate with her Gryffindor friends, as usual. Aside from some of her students coming up to ask her questions and a few giving overly formal, obsequious greetings, hoping to curry her favor, it was as if nothing had changed. Snape, as was his custom, skipped the meal, and for that Hermione was very glad. She felt unsettled, as if there was so much unfinished business between them that she could not face him in public before getting things set straight. There would be plenty of time for that in the evening, but in the mean time, a full day of classes (both to teach and to attend) would keep her mind off the unsolved mysteries of Severus Snape. The Hufflepuff. She barely suppressed a giggle, but Harry and Ron didn't think much of it. It was vintage Hermione: letting her porridge get cold while she daydreamed.  
  
As her day began in earnest, Hermione was quickly engulfed in her responsibilities. Her first Potions class was a real trial, Gryffindors and Slytherins together. She had pleaded with Dumbledore to split the first- year Potions classes so that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff would be together, then Ravenclaw and Slytherin (then she'd only have to worry about half of the class each time, she figured), but the headmaster would hear nothing of it. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he explained to her that it was best to keep the Lions and the Serpents together, since they had a lot to teach each other. That was all well and good in theory, Hermione thought, but try explaining that to a group of young witches and wizards who, even on their second day at Hogwart's, were all too aware of the blood feud between their houses.  
  
Despite the disadvantage of the scheduling, though, things went fairly well. The students respected Hermione and were pleased to have a teacher who could relate to what they were going through. Averaging at least ninety years of age, the staff didn't exactly inspire such feelings in its students. And the only other one who could have, Hermione added to herself, was probably terrorizing her friends at this very moment. Annoyed with this train of thought, Hermione inadvertently snapped at a Hufflepuff girl as she nearly knocked over her seat partner's cauldron, but she apologized as soon as she realized it and made sure to praise the clumsy girl when she (almost) successfully completed her first potion. Almost before she knew it, Hermione was done teaching for the day and it was time to sit through lessons herself. Aside from a few snickers from the Slytherins, which was hardly unusual, the afternoon of classes passed uneventfully. She was glad to be a normal kid for a few hours, just chatting with her friends and worrying about NEWTs like the rest of the seventh-years.  
  
By the time Hermione was done with her homework for the following day, it was nearly seven o'clock. There was just time to have one of the house elves bring her a sandwich for dinner before she had to descend into Snape's dungeon. As she wiped the crumbs from the corners of her mouth and headed on her way, she was conscious of a panoply of feelings churning up her stomach. As usual, there was the characteristic dread and nervousness- after six whole years under Snape's tutelage, she was quite accustomed to this discomfort-but now she noticed a conflicting set of emotions. Along with the normal Snape-seeing package she now experienced curiosity, sympathy, and even a peculiar anxiety that was not so much unpleasant as it was indicative of that quaint muggle complaint, 'butterflies in the stomach,' as one would experience when wishing for something important to go well.  
  
Knocking on the Potions master's door with less trepidation than on the previous day, Hermione smoothed her robes in jittery impatience. A rustling of papers and then footsteps could be heard. "Miss Granger, is that you?" She replied affirmatively, pleased with the congenial tone of his voice. In another moment the door opened, revealing Professor Snape--err, Severus-- err...? Before Hermione could even formulate an appropriate facial expression, he started talking. "How do I look to you, Hermione? I haven't taken the charm off, so what you see is a reflection of your own perception of me." By now she had adopted a look of perplexity. She wasn't sure whether it was best to lie and say he looked... well, handsome would be the only way to describe the Severus she saw yesterday (actually that would be an understatement, but this would of course remain unsaid). or whether she should tell the truth and say he appeared to be almost halfway in between the two extremes of the previous states she had observed in (On? Of?) him. Again, while Hermione was still trying to come up with an answer, Severus- Snape spoke. "You don't have to answer my question, Hermione. I'm not sure I want to know what you see, but think about it. I hope someday you'll again see me as you did last night." His head bowed slightly, and after pausing for a moment, he turned and walked back to his desk.  
  
As he stood before her so humbly for that brief moment, Hermione felt a pang of compassion. His features seemed to blur, softening slightly, and she was almost certain that the transformation was not on his face but rather in her own mind. She smiled gently, aware of a certain calmness passing over her in direct contrast to the chaotic feelings of a few moments hence, and spoke for the first time since she entered the chamber. "You look fine, Severus, quite fine," she said, purposely using his first name to show her comfort and eliciting a breath of relief from him.  
  
"I'm glad," he replied, giving a melancholy smile. "And if there's anything I can do to... hasten the warming-up process, shall we call it, please do let me know. I promise, I have nothing more to hide."  
  
Hermione thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip, and finally answered. "There is one thing... well, a few things. May I ask you just a couple more questions, please?"  
  
"Of course." He perched on the edge of his chair, giving her his full attention and courtesy.  
  
"First of all," Hermione began with a grin, "I have to get this straight. The Sorting Hat wanted you in Hufflepuff? I can't believe it!"  
  
Severus blushed a little, causing another miniscule but noticeable change in Hermione's perception. "Yes, well, I was a bit of a late bloomer. I was always good with my wand, but I had a good deal of trouble in the muggle grammar school I attended before I came to Hogwart's. I was small and awkward and I had a hard time learning to read, so I got picked on a lot, but I was loyal as anything to the friends I did have."  
  
Another wave of softening. "You're melting me!" Hermione exclaimed. "Well, no, actually quite the opposite. You're melting yourself!" For once, the words escaped before she even realized what she was saying. Almost immediately, she regretted her statement and started to blush profusely herself.  
  
"Ah, Hermione, not to worry. This is new for both of us," Severus chuckled, fully smiling for the first time that evening, or indeed that day. "Anything else you'd care to know?"  
  
"Just one other thing. You became a Death Eater when you graduated, but Voldemort, and I suppose the other Death Eaters, don't know about the appearance-detracting charm. How can that be?"  
  
Severus nodded with a smirk. "Nothing too magical about that. We thought of using all sorts of elaborate schemes, Dumbledore and I, but ultimately we just fabricated an encounter with some Variegated Youth Leeches in Nigeria."  
  
"Variegated Youth Leeches? And they believed you?" Hermione laughed.  
  
"Actually, there really are such things, or were. I believe they're extinct now. Not anything you'd see in Care & Keeping of Magical Creatures, even with Hagrid teaching, at any rate." As he grinned broadly, Hermione noticed that Severus finally seemed comfortable in his own skin, and comfortable with her. She, for her own part, was also starting to relax. Now holding a few more pieces of his puzzle, she leaned back in the leather armchair and gave a satisfied smile. "Well, Hermione, if you have no further questions at the moment, we can continue chatting later. Let's get to work on your Salamander, shall we?" She agreed and they moved into the laboratory to begin practicing potions.  
  
By the time they finished gathering all the necessary ingredients and started making the potion, Hermione was working with an ease she had never experienced before. Now unafraid of her teacher, she moved with skilled grace and softly hummed a tune as she stirred the green liquid in the cauldron. Severus was pleased with her flawless execution of the recipe, one that would take most students a week to learn correctly, and gave Hermione a high five. She shook her head and chuckled to herself, wondering where on Earth he learned such a muggle mannerism. "Muggle television," he answered, as if hearing her unspoken question, "comes in spectacularly well with a simple little antenna charm. I get HBO and Showtime, even!" Severus looked very proud of his ingenuity.  
  
'Well, yes,' Hermione said inwardly, 'he should be. There isn't a trace of the detractor charm left.' She thought about telling him so but stopped herself, keeping it a secret for the time being. It was increasingly apparent to her now, as she watched him tidy up the laboratory with a combination of both manual and magical effort, that there was something else she had to straighten out in her mind first. 


	4. Voldemort's Calling Card

--Part IV--  
  
**Again, thanks to all reviewers! Also, I want to thank the authors of the great SS/HG fics that have inspired me, particularly KazVL for the amazing "Falling Further In." As for updates: I will have another chapter up tonight if all goes well. within the next few weeks, you'll probably also be treated to some writing by my fabulous co-author, Mandamanda. BTW, if you were wondering, Severus minus the appearance-detracting charm might look more than a little bit like Johnny Depp... or Orlando Bloom, if you prefer. ;-)**  
  
If Hermione had been watching anyone other than Severus Snape whistling while he worked, she'd have thought nothing of it. It was not the intensity of his contentment that struck her, but the starkness of the contrast between it and his normal state. All his attention was focused on the rhythmic scrubbing and sweeping, and all Hermione's attention was in turn focused on the rhythmic flexing of muscles that produced all this motion. She tidied up with minimal effort while watching Severus, whose back was towards her, intently. Her eyes scanned his lithe body, mapping its every angle and curve. Though she felt ashamed to be viewing her superior as an object, she could not deny that he had shown himself to be worthy of admiration both physically and mentally since his transformation the night before.  
  
Suddenly, Severus stopped mid-stroke. His head turned slightly and Hermione could see how firmly his jaw was set; how tightly his eyes were clenched. At first she mistook the signs for anger and she feared that she had not been as discreet about watching him as she had hoped; within a moment, though, she was horrified to realize that his expression revealed nothing but the purest of pain. He sank to his knees, right hand clutching his sinewy left forearm, doubled over in agony. Instantly Hermione was kneeling at his side, dying to help but entirely unsure of what to do. "Severus, Severus, what's happening?" she almost whispered, choking on her own voice. His only answer was to remove the hand that had been clutching the source of his pain, making visible a glowing and angry scar.  
  
Hermione gasped, too stunned for words. Instinctively, she put an arm around Severus as he crumpled onto her, allowing his head to rest on her shoulder. Feeling him relax rather than flinch, she rubbed his back with one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand through his silky black hair. He let out a tortured breath, almost a whimper, and though he was obviously still feeling the searing pain shooting from his arm through his entire body, he pulled back from Hermione's embrace. His eyes were still closed, though now less tightly, as he whispered, "Hermione, you must go to your room immediately. Harry will be coming to find you any minute now. We feel Voldemort's anger just the same, though neither of them know. And I must go quickly, meetings start precisely fifteen minutes after an emergency call."  
  
"Oh, I never realized... but I suppose it makes perfect sense," Hermione said animatedly, suddenly comprehending what Harry had also failed to understand, that his scar received the same sort of signals as Death Eaters' Dark Marks. Severus nodded solemnly and the gravity of the situation again impressed itself on Hermione, draining the blood from her face. "But Severus," she added, "I have to know that you're all right. If Voldemort is that angry, who knows what he might do. Please, will you find me when you come back?"  
  
It was certainly against his better judgment. "I will have to find Albus Dumbledore as soon as I return, to alert him to schedule a meeting of the Order for tomorrow. Don't worry. It'll be all over Gryffindor by breakfast if something happens to me, I'm sure," he muttered bitterly, hiding how good it felt to know that someone actually cared for him.  
  
Sensing a hint of an act, Hermione would not take no for an answer. After putting up a token show of resistance, Severus backed down. "All right, then," he sighed, feigning exasperation. "I will set the charms to allow you into my chambers tonight, and you can have some tea and wait for me. Albus can wait until tomorrow morning. I don't know when I'll be back, but it won't be before midnight at any rate-- go be with your friends until then, and for Merlin's sake, don't worry!"  
  
'As if telling me that has any effect,' Hermione thought, but she was comforted to know that she would be able to see Severus as soon as he returned. She smiled weakly and nodded, eventually remembering to thank him for indulging her request, then began the lonely walk up the ever-changing staircases to Gryffindor Tower. 


	5. Stroke of Midnight

--Part V--  
  
Sure enough, Harry and Ron were waiting in Hermione's study by the time she got back. Ron jumped up as he heard the doorknob turn and practically shouted, "Hermione, finally you're back! We've been waiting for you for ages-- we could use some help with Arithmancy! But we dozed off and then just now, Harry's scar started acting up and he woke me up and..."  
  
Harry exhaled loudly and replied, exasperated, "and you've really been helping *so* much by screaming in my ear." Ron turned pink and apologized incoherently, then accioed some wood to add to the crackling flames in the fireplace.  
  
"What's going on, Harry? Can you tell what Voldemort's up to?" Hermione sat down on the brown leather couch next to Harry, opposite the armchair in which Ron had finally settled. Of course she felt sympathy for Harry, who had not asked for such an important and difficult destiny, but despite the searing pain he was in no immediate danger. It was Severus who would have to bear the brunt of Voldemort's anger.  
  
Harry fingered his scar gingerly. "I couldn't really see much. the scar woke me up and I lost the dream, but I've never felt him more upset. I think... I think he found out something about my family. I just don't know what." It wouldn't be hard to know more about Harry's family than he did. Virtually all he knew came from Petunia Dursley and thus couldn't be trusted, or from Albus Dumbledore on a strictly need-to-know basis. The idea that Voldemort could use such information as ammunition against him was infuriating to Harry, but there was really nothing he could do about it. Every man has his Achilles heel, and Harry knew his all too well.  
  
After several minutes of speculating about what the newly gained information could possibly be, the conversation finally petered out. The possibilities were infinite, and anyway if Voldemort was infuriated, it would seem to suggest that the secret tilted the odds in Harry's favor. Finally they grew tired and frustrated, and the discussion turned to the difficult Arithmancy assignment due the next day. Of course, Hermione had finished it before dinner, but she enjoyed spending the time with Harry and Ron. It was only the second day of the school year and already she was too busy to see them outside of class as much as she would have liked.  
  
Before she knew it, the clock struck midnight. Harry and Ron, with Hermione's help, had both just finished their assignments, and luckily they decided to go to sleep without much prodding. Though Hermione was tired, her heart was pounding. She simply had to know what Voldemort knew, and of course she was concerned about Severus. One thing she understood was that the Dark Lord's cruelty should never be underestimated. After a few minutes of fretful waiting to ensure that the boys wouldn't see her sneak out, Hermione descended the stairs quickly and practically ran to Snape's quarters. The door opened at her whispered "alohomora" and she stepped inside his study for the first time, shutting the door quietly behind her.  
  
The study was much like a larger version of her own, with the same well- worn leather sofa, two upholstered chairs, a fireplace, a coffee table, and bookshelves piled with thousands of volumes, both muggle and magical. With a simple charm a fire began to glow in the hearth, warming the dank subterranean room. Hermione wrapped herself in a thick woolen blanket, sipped a mug of chamomile tea brought by one of the house elves, and fell asleep within minutes.  
  
The sound of a soft thud jolted Hermione out of her slumber. Startled, she opened her bleary eyes to see Severus lying on his back on the floor in front of the fireplace, looking very weary and slightly dazed. She immediately sprang from the couch and kneeled on the floor next to him, picking up his hand only to find it cold and clammy. "Severus," she said with a trembling voice, eyes wet with a combination of drowsiness and tears, "what happened? Are you all right? Don't move!" He tried to sit up on his own but lacked the strength and instead just squeezed her hand. Thinking quickly, Hermione used mobilicorpus to lift the inert Severus onto the couch and then covered him with the blanket.  
  
Severus smiled gratefully, if only with his eyes and the ever-so-slightest motion of his lips, and began to speak in the hushed voice that was as strong as his parched throat and extreme fatigue would allow. "I'll be... fine... Cruciatus is not... anything new to me... but thank you... Hermione." She was destroyed by the sight of this normally strong and vibrant man, particularly one she had come to like and respect during the past days, reduced to such a pathetic state. On the other hand, she was terribly relieved to know that he was safely back at Hogwart's.  
  
Cradling his head in the crook of her elbow, she held a cup of lukewarm tea to his mouth and let him drink. There was not much else she could do, pain remedies being entirely ineffective against Cruciatus. Severus was still not up to any real talking, and it looked like he wouldn't be for quite some time. He mustered up enough strength to turn his head towards Hermione, kissed her softly on the available cheek, and soon fell into a deep sleep without saying another word. She found another blanket, put the chair cushions on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, and lay down on the makeshift mattress. There was no way she would leave Severus alone all night. 


	6. The Morning After or Love, Interrupted

--Part VI--  
  
**Nicole, your wish has been granted. :-) And thanks to Jhanneman and Niobe for catching my unfortunate gender-bending typo! LOL**  
  
When Hermione awoke, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and yawned widely, as she did every morning. It wasn't until a few moments later that she remembered where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing there. She rolled onto her side and scanned the sleeping figure of Severus Snape on the sofa, appreciating his condition more than she had in the early hours of the morning. The Cruiciatus curse had already worn off, but evidence of a struggle remained. His robes were singed in places and torn in others; his wrists visible where the sleeves had ridden up were red and raw, as if he had been restrained with a cord; his face was sallow and drawn. Deeply saddened, Hermione replaced the chair cushions and then proceeded into the bathroom, washed up, and grabbed a couple of jars that were sitting on the vanity, along with a few strips of bandage cloth. The variety of first-aid implements he kept ready dismayed her greatly: he certainly was no stranger to injuries, and she imagined they all had a common source.  
  
Careful not to wake Severus, Hermione gently lifted his hands one at a time and applied to his wounds first antiseptic, then a soothing salve, finally wrapping his wrists with the bandages and tying them neatly. With a flick of her wand, his robes were as good as new. Still, he slept as soundly as ever, his breathing deep and even. No wonder never makes it to breakfast, Hermione thought. It was almost time for the meal, and she would have just enough time to stop by the headmaster's office on the way to the Great Hall. Finding a quill and parchment, she scrawled a quick note to Severus. "I've gone to inform Dumbledore, and then to breakfast. Please have an elf send word to me when you awake. I'll come see you as soon as I can. H."  
  
Hermione ran into Dumbledore just as he heading to breakfast. He looked pleased to see her, but his expression quickly turned serious when she began speaking. "I need to speak with you in private, Headmaster. It's about Harry and... and Professor Snape."  
  
The old wizard's eyes widened. "Ahh, I understand. We can be a few minutes late for breakfast." He turned around, opening the door to his office and gesturing for Hermione to have a seat. Sitting down across from her, he asked her to begin recounting the story. "So. I understand Severus has let you in on our little secret. He thinks you're an amazing young woman, you know."  
  
Thrown strangely off-kilter by Dumbledore's last remark, and particularly by his emphatic use of 'woman' rather than 'witch,' it took Hermione a moment to gather her thoughts. Eventually, she spoke again. "Last night we were cleaning up after my lesson and Severus was called. It was awful." Here Dumbledore nodded in sympathy. "He said Voldemort was very angry, and that I should go find Harry-- that Harry would be feeling it too, and he was. When I got back to my rooms, he and Ron were waiting for me. Harry couldn't see much, just that Voldemort was as totally enraged, and he thought that it was because of something he had just found out about Harry's family. That's all I know." The headmaster opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shook his head and invited Hermione to go on. "Later I went back to wait for Severus," she continued. "He returned a little after one in the morning, I guess, and he looked just dreadful. He could barely move or speak."  
  
"Cruciatus, I expect," Dumbledore interjected in a tone not devoid of emotion. It was clear that he understood just how much Severus was sacrificing and suffering, doing his bidding.  
  
Hermione nodded in assent. "And more. It looks like his wrists were bound, and his robes were a mess. I left him just now to come find you. He's still asleep." She was close to tears.  
  
The old wizard reached towards Hermione and put his hand on her shoulder. "Severus is a very strong man, Hermione, and a powerful wizard." He gave her a knowing look. Again with the man/woman thing. Dumbledore seemed to intuit, or assume, much more than anyone else she knew. "You need not worry about him today. He will recover well. This evening at eight there will be a meeting of the Order, minus your two Gryffindor friends, so please do not inform them, but come yourself. You must speak with Severus before then. There is a certain matter you two would be best served to discuss first, alone." Confused and far from comforted, Hermione remained silent, but Dumbledore was not yet finished. "And one more thing, Hermione," he said after a moment's pause. She listened with concern, wiping her eye to remove a single unshed tear, and finally followed Dumbledore to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
*****  
  
Meanwhile, Severus was just coming out of his deep slumber. Every single muscle in his body was sore, though some more than others, and his splitting headache made him curse the few errant rays of light that made it into the dungeon at that hour of the morning. After remaining totally still for a few minutes, he sat up slowly, wincing at the daggers of pain shooting up his spine. Finding his wand in his pocket, he muttered a very controlled "lumos," lighting only a single taper. In the dim light he could see that his robes were in perfect condition, though he remembered tearing them badly on jagged rocks in Voldemort's lair. Then, as he reached out to retrieve the blanket that had fallen on the floor, he noticed his neatly bandaged wrists. Hermione. He smiled, admiring her handiwork, and read the note she had left. Still moving a bit gingerly, he summoned a house elf to find Hermione, thank her, and ask if she would come to his chambers immediately after the end of classes.  
  
The first half of the day passed quickly for all concerned. Harry and Ron were still a bit distracted, mainly because they sensed that this was the calm before the storm. Hermione simply immersed herself in her work, as she was apt to do when things were out of her control. For Severus, it was just another day after another Cruciatus. In fact, aside from the dull ache, he felt better than usual-it had been a very long time indeed since someone had cared for him.  
  
As soon as her last class was dismissed, Hermione jumped out of her seat and rushed down to Snape's quarters. She entered his office and, finding it empty, knocked on the wooden side door that led from it into his study. A smiling Severus let her in and she immediately threw her arms around him, pressing her body into his. Somewhat stunned, he returned the hug only lightly at first but soon warmed into the embrace and bent down slightly to bury his face in her hair.  
  
Hermione, for the umpteenth time in twenty-four hours, was on the verge of tears. Like a distractible infant, though, the clove-and-ginger scent of Severus's hair made her forget what she had wanted to cry about. She gently placed one hand on the back of his neck, lifted it slightly to expose the skin under his shoulder-length mane, and softly kissed the tender place where his neck and shoulder joined.  
  
"I love you, Hermione," came his whispered reply, "though I've done nothing to deserve your kindness."  
  
She pulled away from him, astonished, with an amused smile on her face. "So that's what Dumbledore wanted you to tell me," she laughed. He looked surprised and hurt. Realizing her mistake (or so she thought), Hermione went to correct herself. "I'm sorry, Severus. That must have sounded awful. I wasn't laughing at you. Just amazement that the clairvoyant headmaster strikes again, you know. I do love you terribly, for as short a time as I've truly known you," she said, now entirely serious. She leaned in to give him a real kiss.  
  
"What?!" He jumped back, startling himself as much as Hermione. "That was not what Albus meant, I can assure you!"  
  
"Oh really?" Hermione questioned, now a bit frustrated. "Let's hear it, then."  
  
Severus swallowed hard. "I fully intended to tell you as soon as you came in the door. Things are a bit... more complicated now, however, which I admit is entirely my fault. This should've been taken care of before you decided to love me and all that," he finished with a nervous laugh.  
  
'Whatever this is, it isn't going to be good news,' thought Hermione. She'd laid herself bare, even if it wasn't in quite the romantic way she'd been envisioning, and now it was all for naught. "Well, get it over with," she said icily, plopping down in one of the chairs and crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"Yes." He paused. "Remember I told you that my parents were powerful Spanish wizards? Well, that's what I thought until Dumbledore called me back to Hogwart's to teach. It turns out that I was given away for adoption as an infant, when a prophesy was revealed about my family. You know how they are, very cryptic, and all it really said was that I should be sent away until after a tragedy befell my family, or I would be unable to fulfill my destiny."  
  
"So. that's it? You're adopted, because of a prophesy?" Hermione was now more confused than ever, but at least her steely glare had softened.  
  
Severus laughed. "Well, that's not entirely it. You see, it all ties back to why Albus Dumbledore had great plans for me when I entered Hogwart's as a student. By this time, Tom Riddle was already in his fourth year, and it was very clear that he was up to no good. So Albus went to the Ministry of Magic and read all the prophesies concerning him. It turned out that I was sort of involved in one of them, but under the name my adoptive parents had given to me: Severus Snape. He made some enquiries and discovered my true parentage, or so I learned many years later, which is the primary reason why I'm here today." He stopped for a moment, inhaled deeply, and let one more sentence fall from his lips. "My real name is Perseus Evans."  
  
"An anagram," she murmured, then suddenly almost shouted. "Evans? As in LILY Evans-Potter?" If Hermione had been more shocked, she might not have remembered her own name, let alone Lily's.  
  
"Yes. I'm her younger brother, and Harry's Uncle Perseus, as it were. Voldemort does not know, and he must never find out. Unfortunately, last night he came a bit closer to discovering the truth."  
  
Hermione was simply unable to speak. So Severus continued. "Albus intends to inform the Order of this tonight. Clearly Harry will have to know as well, but we think it would be best if I told him myself, in private. However, I do realize that he might be a bit... hostile towards me, which is why I'm hoping that you might also be present. Then you may tell Ron, of course, but no others."  
  
Finally, Hermione attempted to speak. "Yes, I... I quite understand." She still looked petrified, but there was obviously a lot going through her head.  
  
"Good." Severus smiled, though a bit wistfully. "And I will understand if you wish what happened a few minutes ago... hadn't. This clearly wasn't part of the bargain."  
  
"No... it surely wasn't," she admitted. "Still, I am a woman of my word. I shall see you at eight." Regaining her trademark smile of smug composure, she got up from the chair, walked over to Severus, and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He didn't even have time to respond before she continued walking straight out the door. 


	7. The Order of the Phoenix

--Part VII--  
  
**I offer my apologies to the anonymous disappointed reader who reviewed (and will definitely not be reading this, haha). Actually, I'm regretting the appearance-detracting charm myself at the moment, but I do really believe that Severus Snape = Perseus Evans, and that he will turn out to be the hero of the series. I guess we'll see in a few years! ;-) BTW, I am definitely not the only one to believe this. Check out for details.**  
  
Down the empty hallway, past the third torch... Hermione barely remembered how to get to the room where the Order of the Phoenix held its meetings during the school year. The last time she had the need to use the Room of Requirement was in her fifth year, when it had been the headquarters of Dumbledore's Army. Of course, the room itself had been there, even if Hermione had not-- but only sometimes, and most likely it had only served as a bathroom for some desperate and lost first-year. Now, perfectly suited to its purpose as always, the room contained a long oak table along with the precise number of chairs needed to seat the members of the Order.  
  
Only Dumbledore arrived before Hermione. Grabbing two butterbeers and a handful of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavored Beans, he sat down at the head of the table and invited her to take a chair. Seeing her hesitate, not knowing where to sit in the absence of Harry and Ron, the headmaster smiled good- naturedly. "Why don't you leave the seat at my right for Severus, and you can sit next to him. How's that?" The knowing twinkle in the headmaster's eye caused Hermione to stammer and blush slightly, but she managed a polite response and planted herself where he'd indicated. As soon as she did, Dumbledore continued speaking. "Hermione, all kidding aside, I have to thank you. The maturity you've shown of late has truly made an impression on me. I will never forget how kindly you treated Severus last night. It means a great deal to me, particularly since I am the cause of nearly all the torment he's suffered since he was a young lad. I am a man of many regrets, Hermione, but you must remember that I have always tried to do what's right."  
  
"I know you are doing your best, Professor Dumbledore. That's all anyone can ever hope to do. It's all I was doing last night," Hermione said softly.  
  
The door opened as she finished speaking and in walked Severus Snape. He and Dumbledore exchanged warm hellos, then both men looked to Hermione. Very unsure of how to proceed, she glanced first at Severus, then to Albus, then back to the Potions master. Finally Severus broke the ice. "Hermione, may I sit down?" He gestured towards the empty chair at her left.  
  
"Yes, please do. How are you feeling?" she ventured, attempting to avoid another awkward lack of conversation. He replied, to everyone's relief, that he was feeling much better. Waiting for a moment when Albus was preoccupied with greeting the newly-arrived Minerva McGonagall, Severus placed his hand on Hermione's knee and brushed lightly with his thumb, an action for which she showed her appreciation by resting her hand on his and entwining fingers with him for a brief moment. The intimate gesture went unnoticed by the two old Gryffindors, but it filled Hermione with a feeling of warmth and hope that lasted throughout the night.  
  
Within minutes, most of the Order had congregated. Bill Weasley was there, representing his parents and his brother Charlie, who was still in Romania; the clumsy but well-meaning metamorphamagus, Nymphadora Tonks; jovial, gigantic Hagrid; Mad-Eye Moody; Remus Lupin; the whole Advance Guard. Hermione chatted with Hagrid, who was sitting on the floor to her right since two chairs could barely hold him. She grew highly anxious, anticipating the commotion she was certain would erupt as soon as Dumbledore began explaining the previous night's occurrences. Severus, for his part, kept silent. Unable to show his true nature, much less his affection for Hermione, he chafed under the burden of disguising himself. It had been a real downer of a day aside from that one perfect moment, however bittersweet, in Hermione's arms.  
  
Dumbledore began speaking with little ceremony. "As many of you know, Voldemort called a meeting of his Death Eaters last night. He was considerably upset, as Severus can attest, having suffered under the Cruciatus as well as physical restraints for much of the evening. And he was one of the lucky ones." Severus had his head bowed, hating the attention and pity. Well... maybe some of the pity was all right. At his side, Hermione sat stoically. Continued Dumbledore, "the matter which... frustrated Voldemort so... concerns Harry Potter. I have long known, indeed since young Mr. Potter was even born, that there remains a hidden branch of the Evans family tree. The identity of this missing kin is protected by a Fidelius charm, and I have been Secret Keeper for all these years-- but yesterday, Voldemort got a hint that there exists such a person. We can only speculate as to how; he would not divulge his source or methods." The headmaster paused, stroked the length of his beard once, and sighed. "The importance of this to Voldemort is that he cannot touch Harry in a place where his mother's bloodline flows; thus it is critical to the Order that the secret remains kept, as Harry remains our best and perhaps last hope in the battle to defeat Voldemort." Another pause. "However, there is another reason why the Order finds itself... invested in the safety of this long- lost Evans. Because he is one of our own."  
  
The meeting dissolved into stifled gasps, hushed whispers, and furtive glances. Hermione looked at Dumbledore questioningly, wondering if in fact he was going to divulge Snape's true identity after all. He nodded to her, simultaneously putting his gnarled hand on the Potions master's left shoulder. All of a sudden silence descended upon the room again. "Severus Snape, or Perseus Evans, as he was known during infancy, has done more for the Order than the rest of us combined. He has successfully maintained himself as a spy within Voldemort's inner circle for fifteen years, proven to have more skill at Occlumency than any wizard I have ever known, and braved unspeakable torture with the utmost composure time and time again. Those are the things I am at liberty to divulge, anyway." Dumbledore threw a quick glance in Hermione's direction, receiving a proud grin in return. Severus looked up sheepishly, himself unable to resist cracking a smile.  
  
'They've taken it better than I did,' Hermione thought, amused, 'but apparently the appearance-detracting charm remains our little secret. Ah well, perhaps the better.' Looking around the room, she saw many shaking heads and chuckles of amazement.  
  
"Does Harry know?" asked Bill Weasley, first to regain perspective on the situation.  
  
"Not yet. Severus and Miss Granger will be informing him shortly, and I'm sure they will tell Ron as well." Dumbledore's answer earned nods of satisfaction all around.  
  
"I suppose the question is what to do now," Remus Lupin mused.  
  
Dumbledore took a moment to reply. "Yes. And frankly, I am not yet certain that any particular course of action is necessary. As long as the knowledge remains solely within the Order, I see no reason for alarm. Of course, if any of you have ideas, I see no harm in considering them." The offer was greeted with silence. "Well then. At some later date, perhaps. If there is nothing further to discuss, I believe the meeting is complete."  
  
The wizards trickled out the door, many of them first stopping to thank Severus. He accepted the appreciation with the humility of a man unaccustomed to such praise. Dumbledore, too, left, leaving Severus and Hermione alone at last.  
  
"We should tell Harry now, shouldn't we?" Hermione's tone revealed her fear. She knew Harry would not take the news well.  
  
"Yes. I feel terrible about this whole ordeal. For so many years I've worried about how he would react... how I could possibly set everything-- set *anything* right."  
  
"Just be yourself, Severus."  
  
"Well, that's a large part of the problem, isn't it?" he snapped. That was a bit too close to the old Professor Snape for Hermione's comfort. Seeing her recoil in fright, Severus put his arm around her shoulders, whispered an apology, and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
Hermione was calmed, but not wholly comforted. "I'm really not sure I can handle this," she said worriedly, though without struggling free of his grip.  
  
"Honestly, I... I don't know if I can, either. Time will tell."  
  
"And time will heal." She placed her hand over his heart, brushing her fingers gently over the soft velvet.  
  
"Time will heal," he echoed, rising from his chair and helping Hermione do the same. "To find Harry, then?" Off they went in nervous silence, making their way to Gryffindor Tower. 


	8. A Brief Moment Alone

--Part VIII-  
  
**Sorry this one's short. I couldn't think of a way to put off the meeting with Harry and Ron any longer, but I just really really don't want to write it. I feel bad for poor Severus, LOL.**  
  
"So... should we deal with Ron now too, or wait?" Hermione sat next to Severus on the couch, resting her head against his shoulder and playing with his sleeve absently.  
  
He rested one elbow on the arm of the sofa and held his face in that hand, sighing loudly. "I think I'd rather just get it over with. It's been a hell of a long day..." he glanced at the bandage on his wrist "and I'd rather not go through this more times than I have to."  
  
"You don't have to. I can tell Ron in private later." As she snuggled closer, he put his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Thank you, that's very kind, but I owe it to Ron to tell him myself. I think he can be trusted not to do anything rash, though I understand that he despises me." He paused; rubbed his temples; held Hermione more tightly. "I don't understand why everything is so hard for me all of a sudden. I've been doing the double-agent routine for fifteen years, and yet the past couple days I've just... cracked. Like putting on the act takes more strength than I've got."  
  
"Honestly, Severus, right now it probably *does* take more than you've got. After going through Voldemort's Cruciatus and Merlin-knows-what else last night, you shouldn't have taught today. Dumbledore should not ask so much of you."  
  
Severus shook his head. "No, it's not the physical pain. I'm a wizard in the prime of his life, right? I can take it like a Gryffindor," he teased, but quickly turned serious again. "I think that... maybe that once I let someone in and remembered how good it feels to be myself... that maybe there's no going back again."  
  
Hermione sat silent for a moment, then pulled away. Kneeling in front of Severus so she could look him in the eye, she spoke without a hint of weakness in her voice. "I know. I know. But I don't think you have the choice just yet. I'm in this with you now, Severus, and I swear that I will do everything in my power to make things as easy as I can for you. If you need to treat me as you did before, if you never want to 'break character' again, then so be it. I will understand, and I will not turn my back on you. But... never mind." She finished under her breath, suddenly avoiding his gaze.  
  
"But what, Hermione?" The words nearly caught in his throat, but he sought her eyes now more than ever.  
  
She swallowed and glanced up at him quickly, but finding his insistent stare unnerving, looked back down at his shoes. "But if you're, uhh... if you love me or whatever... if we are feeling this way aren't you... aren't we supposed to... to make each other stronger? If you... arghhhhh!" Finally she looked up at him in sheer frustration. It seemed like every stammered word only compounded the inarticulate inappropriateness of her query.  
  
"What makes you think you don't make me stronger, love? You're the only one who's ever given me enough strength to be who I really am, *and* switch back into bastard mode. It's just that you've also made me look hard at who I *want* to be. For you." He gently pulled her up into his lap, brushing his lips all across her face, planting tiny kisses all over it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Hermione, his lips came to rest against hers. She held his face in one hand and slid the other into his hair as she opened her mouth slightly into the kiss, feeling his hands clasp around her waist as he parted his lips and tentatively touched the tip of his tongue to hers. She sighed lightly into his mouth, now exploring it shyly as their tongues continued their slow, courtly dance. Their melding was sweet, delicious, contented, not restrained or cautious but simply not hungry or rushed. Neither desired to end the kiss but it dissolved of its own accord, reminding the two parties that there was still much work to be done.  
  
Severus smiled like a sleepy cat who had just lapped up a saucer full of milk. Hermione wished they were only getting started, but her self-control won out as she rose to her feet. "It really is time now," she said with a hint of sadness. "You stay here, sweet. I'll be right back with Harry and Ron."  
  
Sweet. He chuckled aloud to himself as Hermione closed the door behind her. Certainly no head of Slytherin House had ever been called that before. 


	9. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Author's Note**  
  
Hi everyone! Thanks to all of you who have reviewed the story so far, for better or for worse. I'm writing this to let you know that there may not be another installment for a while... if ever. Frankly, I'm annoyed with the appearance-detracting charm (Alan Rickman, could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me? You are the perfect Snape, and I should not have meddled. I'm sorry.) and I am just not at all looking forward to Harry & Ron finding out about Hermione & Severus. So... I'm sorry to those of you who were looking forward to more of this fic. It's been a labor of love, and of irresponsibility, since I've been writing it while I should in fact be writing a certain linguistics paper with a forthcoming publication deadline. If anyone wants to pick up the thread, be my guest. My e-mail and AIM screen name are on my profile.  
  
Maybe I'll write another fic someday... this was a fun experiment. In the meantime, I've got a HG/SS poem partially written, so stay tuned. And if you like my writing, which of course I hope you do *g*, check out my website (also linked from my profile) or my FictionPress account, fictionpress.net/~KarbonOkapi.  
  
Bye for now! Bridget 


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